De-Void
by Hamato Michelangelo
Summary: "Mikey...this isn't you." "It is now." What started out as depraved nightmares, soon unfolds to be a more pernicious picture. And they call it Void. (Rated T. Fusion with TMNT and TW)
1. Chapter 1

**So, I'm kind of really excited about this story idea! However, I have to throw out a few disclaimers. This fanfiction has plot and story elements not only from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but from MTV's Teen Wolf too.**

 **BUT BEFORE you click exit, I'd like to clarify that no main characters from Teen Wolf will make an appearance (no teen wolves, don't worry). I just simply got inspired by the storyline with a supernatural being on the show, that just-so-happens to fit for TMNT.**

 **That being said, if you watch the show Teen Wolf, you will most likely know what will happen in this story, but hopefully it's still entertaining! Also, you do not have to watch Teen Wolf to understand what is happening. Everything will be explained in the fanfic.**

 **OK enough of this chit chat! Reviews are welcomed**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT**

 **Prologue  
**  
The woman in the painted portrait was faded from over the years, but he could still see her beauty perfectly clear. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, her skin was as pale as the moon, and her lips were the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen. But what struck out the most were her eyes—they blazed and flickered with an intense brightness that strokes of paint could never capture. That was the thing he first fell for.

Rain _pitter-pattered_ outside, almost as if nature were contributing to the dreary mood that enveloped the empty room.

She had been the fire in his life; his motivation, his inspiration, his passion. Then later on, his _obsession_.

But then, oh but then, everything crashed and burned. He could've had it all. And he was so, _so_ close too. It was practically in his hands, but everything slipped through his fingers.

The fire in his life had become literal, as the wood combusted, crackling and blackening around him. It was a memory that was seared forever in his mind, and the sounds were forever ringing in his ears. The sound of clanging metal, the sound of heavy breaths, the sound of grunts of effort and pain. But the worst sound was the tearing of flesh from his own weapon, the slicing of a human body just past his knuckles. The sick, bloodcurdling scream of the woman he loved.

 _She was such a fool!_ Oroku Saki fumed to himself, _Such a pathetic, dishonorable act!_

Thunder suddenly boomed and rattled, as if to agree with the thoughts in his head.

Saki did not know whether such places as heaven or hell existed. He did not know if there were angels, but what he did know, was that there were demons that crawled on the earth and through the spiritual planes. Demons, and other lowlife creatures, that just loved to rob from others.

Despite the current anger building in his chest from the memory, he still caressed the portrait gently with his thumb.

Though he had lost his beloved Tang Shen, he had also gained something that night; his daughter, Karai. And through Karai, Saki was able to see Shen's fire in her eyes. No matter how hard and cold he had become, he would always have a soft spot for his little girl. It was a way for him to connect to the good parts of his past, a way for him to connect to Shen beyond the grave.

Saki's grip on the picture in his hand tightened, the wind howling beyond the walls of the building.

When Baxter Stockman had implanted the brain-worm, it was reassurance that the flame he carried close to his heart would burn eternally. And it would've, until she was detached from the worm, and he lost the ability to control her. Now she could be anywhere; Karai was taken away from him. Everything he had was taken away from him. And they had all been taken by one man; Hamato Yoshi.

Setting the portrait down, Saki let out a ferocious roar. A roar of frustration, a roar of grief, and a roar for revenge. It shouldn't be this hard for him, it really shouldn't be. All he had to do was shove his blades through the filthy rat, and then he could be more at peace. If only those odious, overgrown reptiles weren't so loyal to him. If only Yoshi weren't such a coward.

Lightening flashed from the windows above as footsteps echoed in the hall. Saki turned sharply, glaring at the three who dared to be in his presence.

"Did you find her?" he demanded, though he knew the answer.

"N-Not yet, Master," it was Tiger Claw who was brave enough to answer, "but we won't quit until your cub is found."

"Didn't I tell you _imbeciles_ to not return without my daughter?" Karai was the only person he had left.

"Ah, yes, but you see," Xever began, "the storm has progressed immensely—it would be impossible to find her in such weather."

Bradford added onto that with a nervous, "Uh, yeah." The werewolf-like mutant then shook the raindrops off his body. "Hate getting wet," he muttered under his breath, though Saki heard.

Xever smirked with his fish lips, "I thought you were supposed to be a dog, not a pussycat."

"Shut it, you California Roll!" Bradford raised a fist—

"Silence! Stop this nonsense and leave me!"

Xever and Bradford immediately froze in place, bowed, and then exited themselves. Tiger Claw, on the other hand, remained where he was.

"Did I not tell you to leave?" Oroku Saki sneered, "I am disappointed in all of you. You all cannot even carry out and obey one simple order for me."

"My apologies, Master Shredder," he lowered his ears slightly, "Once the storm clears up, I will not rest until I have Karai in my grasp."

 _Empty promises!_ Saki mused, _It's the same, recycled excuses_.

If it weren't for the kabuto helmet hiding his face, Tiger Claw would've noticed the red that washed over him. He was washed over with such a blinding fury, all he could do at the moment was slam a fist into the armrest of his throne.

Tiger Claw did notice _that_ , however. Worry filled his feline face, "Is something else troubling you, Master?"

Under his hand was the portrait of Shen. Lifting it up, he gave it another intent look. It was the anniversary of Tang Shen's accident. The day that Hamato Yoshi ruined his life. The day his fire was extinguished for good. His heavy heart sank; he missed her. But he wouldn't allow anyone to know that information, even if somewhere, a small fragment of him did.

Revenge and hate wrapped its tentacles around his heart with a vice grip, heat coursing through his veins. His worthless minions never carried out his orders, and they got him nowhere. At this rate, he would be dust on the ground before anyone succeeded a mission.

 _Maybe I need to call on someone—or_ something _—that's not from the physical plane for assistance._

"That's none of your concern," Saki finally spoke.

"Shredder," Tiger Claw stepped forward, "I swear on my life, that I will obey your command, and that I will capture—"

"Quit your pathetic excuses!" He had had enough of it all. Getting up on his feet, he pointed and accusing finger at the tiger, "If none of you are able to handle one mere task, then I will have to do it myself!" Thunder clapped again, scaring the mutant and making his fur stand straight.

Stomping out of the main hall, Saki headed straight for the room he had dedicated for privacy. He ignored the embarrassing pleas from Tiger Claw, slamming the heavy metal door shut.

Although he wasn't one for meditation, it didn't mean that he never did. Hamato Yoshi's father, the man who raised Saki as well, often taught him that meditation was the bridge that connected the physical realm with the spiritual one.

Lighting incense, the scarred man illuminated the dark, cold room. As smoke began to rise, he placed the portrait in between the candles. Tang Shen may have died, but there were still times where Saki would use her for motivation.

Sitting comfortably, he tried his best to steady his hot breath. He also tried his best to ignore all the distracting noises—the thunder, the rain, the wind, the cries of Tiger Claw, his own heartbeat. He tried his best to clear his mind, filling it with only one thought and desire; power. His desperate thirst for power and revenge.

And then he began muttering Japanese under his breath. At first, his words were thought out and precise. But the mutters gradually turned into chants. Chants with the same desperate words, the same pleas. Chanting it over and over as his heart boomed as loud as thunder.

"M-Master?! What are you—What do you think you're doing?!"

A smile of satisfaction tugged at his chapped lips when he heard the fear in Tiger Claw's voice. The assassin must've picked up on some of the Japanese he was mumbling and pieced it together. But he continued to pray the same prayer. Praying, chanting, offering—anything to get him noticed and worthy of contact.

He cracked open an eye. The flame on the incense seemed to grow, the tips licking the air more vigorously. Saki furrowed his brows, thinking that perhaps saying his prayer louder would help. So with each word—each sound—he grew more boisterous and grating and vile until he couldn't hold it back anymore. He cried out, sweat rolling down his face. He shouted, he howled, he bellowed until the words tore at his throat and he could taste bitter blood. The candle flames suddenly burst, swallowing up the portrait of Shen and turning it to ash.

And then he stopped. He caught his breath, and watched as the fire slowly died. Clambering to his feet, anticipation pumped through his body. He stared at his trembling hands. Waiting.

Outside noises finally resurfaced, the rain still _pitter-pattering_ , and Tiger Claw knocking on the metal door. But he still waited. Waited for a feeling, a sign.

The raps on the door wouldn't stop, and Saki's patience was running thin. With his armor clanking as he marched, the man opened the door to reveal a frightened mutant. His pupils were shrunken, his cat eyes as wide as saucers.

"What...What have you done?"

"What I had to," Saki spat, "I grew weary of your failures, and took matters into my own hands."

"You didn't take things into your own hands! You—"

"Are you asking for a death sentence?! Would you like your head on a spike?!"

Tiger Claw gulped, shook his head, mumbled an apology, and then finally left. Saki let out a sigh of relief from the absence.

And he continued to wait. He stared at his hands—curling fists and uncurling—waiting. But seconds turned into minutes, and minutes inched slowly by. Everything was still. And there was nothing. No feeling of strength, no rush of special emotion, no words, no signs.

 _Nothing_.

"It didn't work..." he whispered. "It didn't work!" Clenching tight fists, he pounded the metal door, and let out another mighty roar. The ash settled on the floor.

But a few weeks later, Oroku Saki would discover that it _did_ work. And he would regret every word that he spoke.


	2. Chapter One: When is a Door not a Door?

**Author's Notes** **: YOOO SO SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER TO UPDATE! School just loves to ruin everything doesn't it? I'll try my best to update faster. On the bright side, this chapter is really freaking long. Reviews are appreciated!**

Chapter One: When is a Door not a Door?

" _ **Mikey**_!"

It bounced and echoed off the walls, and Michelangelo swore that it even rattled through the whole sewers.

That one word—his name—often had only a few variations in tone. And most of those weren't very positive ones either. But he had to admit, he did get into trouble a lot, so he probably deserved it. Like right now, for instance.

Raphael ripped his bedroom door open, steam almost visibly shooting from his ears. Mikey knew that he should be fearful at the moment, but he couldn't suppress the small giggle.

"What the shell was that for?!" Raph nearly shouted.

Mikey looked up from the comic book he was rereading, "When have I ever needed a reason to prank you before, Raphie?"

"But stink bombs in the punching bag, really?! And quit calling me that!"

Mikey raised an eye ridge, "Calling you what? Raphie? Raphie-boy? Raph—"

Suddenly, the small freckled turtle was dangling by his mask tails.  
"Ow! Ow-ow—ok, ok!" Mikey struggled to break free from his older brother's grasp.

"Geez dude, you smell worse than a skunk covered in—"  
Raph gave him a tug, quickly cutting off his insult.

"Look, look, I'm sorry bro. It's just...how I deal with stress?" Mikey looked up and smiled innocently.

Raph then set him back down on his bed, slowly leaning closer to his face. A crazed look filled Raphael's emerald eyes. Mikey gulped.

"You wanna know how I deal with stress?" he smirked. Before Mikey could answer, he continued with a low growl, "I beat the living crud out of anything that gets in my way. And guess what?" Raph yanked him by the shoulders, " _That's you!_ "

This routine—the one where Mikey would set off a prank, only then to have his life threatened—was a very usual occurrence. Especially recently.

Mikey hadn't lied about what he said; pranking was his way of dealing with stress. And for some reason, the teen couldn't help but feel this constant, looming, and overwhelming feeling of stress dangle above him. He didn't know why it was there, but there was no denying of its existence. So this dangerous cycle of risk and chance was circulating often throughout the home. But maybe choosing Raph as his victim today wasn't a smart move.

With a blink of an eye, Mikey sunk and slid down onto the floor, just in time to dodge a sucker punch to the gut. Slipping in between his brother's legs, Michelangelo then made a mad dash for it, running out into the main living space of the lair. Luckily for him, he was the most agile one out of the four of them.

Crashing and angry yells followed behind him, but he didn't dare to look back. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on the obstacles in front of him. Slipping past the couch and maneuvering around the pinball machine, Mikey cackled and threw his head back.

"Dr. Prankenstein strikes again! I'm the master of practical jokes, the king of tricks! I'm as fast as lightening!  
I'm invincible! No one can stop—"

And that was when he collided with Leonardo, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

"What—Mikey!" Leo said, his voice muffled from under him. Untangling from his oldest brother as quickly as he could, Mikey scrambled to get back to his feet.

"Sorry dude, a little busy at the moment, gotta run—"

"Oh no you don't!"

It was all a blur, really. The next thing Mikey knew, was that he was trapped in a tight headlock.

"Say it!"

"Not this time! You can't make—" Raph locked him tighter. "Gah! Quit it, let me go!"

"Not until you say it."

"Raph, just let him go," Mikey heard Leo say.

"Yeah! C'mon, can't we just hug this out?"

Mikey could see Leo step closer to the scene from the corner of his eye, but then he stepped back, "Wait—what on earth is that smell?"

" _Say. It._ "

"Never!—"

Scraping lab doors caught Mikey's attention.

"Can't you guys be quiet for like, ten minutes?!" Donnie poked his head out, goggles peppered with soot. "I'm trying to do something that requires complete concentration, and I can't concentrate when you guys keep screaming at each other!"

"It's not my fault this doofus keeps pulling off stupid pranks!" Raph shot a sharp glare down at him. 

"And it's not my fault that Raph can't take a joke!" Mikey defended himself.

"Can't you guys both admit that you're wrong and get over it?!"

"You butt out of this Leo, this literally has nothing to do with you!"

And oddly enough, that's what he did. Leo seemed to try his best to not pick a side, to not have a biased position. But no matter how hard he tried to act like an unbiased leader, an unbiased brother, there were still times where he'd show blatant favoritism. Leo's words might have sounded supporting, but his actions displayed something else. He wasn't trying to stop Raph. Mikey assumed that Leo thought he deserved the punishment.

Mikey wriggled and squirmed, but Raph brusquely buckled down on him. _Now_ there was no possible way for him to escape. The two held an intense stare, a frown deepening on the youngest's face.

 _Ok, it's time to pull out my secret weapon._  
He widened his big baby blue eyes, over exaggerating a miserable look as he whimpered.

 _No one can resist the puppy dog eyes! Not even you, Raphie-boy!_

"Knock it off! I'm not letting you go until you say it!"

Mikey continued to whimper, allowing his eyes to get misty. After a few seconds, Mikey could finally see Raph's face grow a little softer, his grip loosening.

Donnie's voice suddenly broke the tension, "What smells like hydrogen sulfide?"

"Gah!" Raph roared, once again tightening his grip. Mikey squeezed his eyes instinctively, preparing for a pummeling.

"What is going on in here?" 

The voice thundered, intimidation resonating into Mikey's core. Everyone froze right where they were. Raph let go, Mikey suddenly dropping onto the floor. 

And there he was. Master Splinter towered over him, his beady eyes slanted with impatience. It was only on occasion that his father would have to intervene fights; they were old enough to settle their own disputes (Leo was just as much as an authority figure anyway). But the rare times where all four were exchanging and participating in the argument—that was when Sensei would swoop in, his fingers curling tightly around the head of his cane and his fur standing up straight.

Their father's stern stare burned through Mikey's soul, and it was well known that that effect happened to his brothers as well. It didn't take long for his hotheaded brother to erupt.

"Mikey filled the punching bag with stink bombs," Raph gestured his arms towards Mikey accusingly, "and we're all getting tired of his annoying antics!"

 _Wow, it took him less than five seconds to throw me under the bus. I think that's a new record.  
_  
"Way to tattle tale," Donnie clapped a hand on Raph's shoulder, "But I would have to agree. Mikey has been difficult lately, and has been distracting me from my work." The tallest brother paused before adding, "By the way, you should really take a shower Raph."

"Shut up!"

Mikey couldn't keep quiet anymore—that was never his strong point anyway. "I can't help that I'm stressed!"

"What would you even be stressed about?! Something that happened in your comics? We're not buying it!"

"You—"

"Enough," Splinter struck his cane against the pavement, the collision silencing the argument. "Michelangelo, follow me. I wish to speak to you in private."

Mikey gulped. His Sensei hardly ever wanted to speak to him alone.

"It _wasn't_ nice knowing ya," Raph teased.

His three brothers all flicked glances to one another, snickering and chattering filling in for the awkward silence.

 _What are they, like, five?  
_  
Mikey stuck his tongue out at them as a response. 

The freckled turtle trailed behind his Master, nervousness fluttering in his stomach.

 _I'm so in for it!_

Splinter shuffled the dojo doors open, and once Mikey stepped inside, he firmly shut them. The room was dimly lit, creating an eerie atmosphere that added more to his nerves. A familiar feeling rushed through his veins.

"Ok, I promise to get rid of the stink bombs, clean up the mess, and apologize to—" he suddenly stammered, but was interrupted.

"Please sit down, Michelangelo."

The young teen blinked at the command, but did so anyway. Usually, Master Splinter would reprimand him right off the bat. The need to apologize for almost everything had become automatic at this point. This wasn't the _routine_ he was used to. It made him feel uneasy.

Mikey studied his Sensei as he brought out assorted candles, watching him set them down in front of him. He studied how careful his Sensei was as he lit a single match, gently dipping it onto the crispy wick of each single candle. And lastly, he studied the flame that grew on each and every one.

And then, Splinter finally spoke. "You have mentioned that you are stressed. Is this true, my son?"

He felt his throat tighten. Mikey was never the one to be shy, but when it all boiled down to serious confessions to his Sensei, he clamped up from time to time.

"Well, uh, yeah, I guess," he mumbled, grabbing and playing with his toes.

"Would you care to elaborate?"

Mikey heard the tone in his voice. It was the tone that meant "I'm asking you, but it's not really an option". It was a parent thing.

 _Man, I must've really crossed the line or something. Sensei never gets this involved with...well, me!  
_  
"Uh...well—you know what, it's no biggie. How long am I grounded for? Because I was really looking forward to—" he glanced up and caught the glint in Splinter's eye, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"I am aware of your techniques of diversion. I will not be distracted."

Mikey grinned sheepishly, giving up on trying to dodge the inevitable. _It was worth a shot._

"I don't know Sensei," he eventually answered, trying his best to sound aloof in the conversation, "I just feel jumpy, or on edge. You know?"

 _More like full-blown bugging out!_

Splinter stroked his beard. "Why do you feel this way, do you think?"

Mikey stared at the floor and thought. He hadn't given it too much thought, though that was his choice. He hadn't wanted to. He didn't like facing these kind of problems. Facing Kraang? Awesome. Facing Footbots? They were fun to fight. Facing both—even better! But facing something that dwelled within his own thoughts? Not a chance. So whenever he did have these problems, he liked to distract himself with sweet daydreams and innocent pranks.

But right now, as he sat on the mat on the dojo floor, he tackled the reasoning behind his growing stress.

"I...I have this kind of feeling," he thought aloud, "Like...Like when I knew something was up with April's mom, who turned out to be a Kraang—oh yeah, you weren't there for that. Man, you shoulda seen her, she exploded and—"

"Michelangelo."

"Right, right," Mikey recollected his thoughts. "I just have this weird feeling in my gut. Do you ever get that? It feels like...like—"

"Like something bad is going to happen?"

The youngest was taken aback by the accurate, pinpoint answer. Though, he should've been used to it—Splinter seemed to know _everything_.

Mikey slowly nodded, his baby blue eyes wide with the worry he had been bottling up the past few days.

"Very, very bad," he managed to muster a whisper.

Things had been going great lately, the only mission at hand was trying to find Karai. She had gone MIA the day she trapped him and his brothers. Michelangelo twitched at the memory; mutagen dangling just a few inches from his skin.

Splinter had tried to perform the healing mantras on his daughter, and it was still unknown to them whether she had been freed from the brainworm or not.

But other than that, crime activity had seemed to decrease tremendously. The Kraang were long gone, Shredder and his henchman were noticeably inactive. The only threats they had been seeing on patrol were mere Purple Dragon crimes.

Mikey of course was definitely grateful that evil wasn't running rampant through the streets, and that him and his brothers got to have a little bit of a break. But his heart still raced at any moment of relaxation he could find.

"I didn't wanna say anything. Leo would've gotten all bossy, Raph would've gotten all punchy, and Donnie would've gotten all... _smarty_... with me. They never take me seriously!"

 _They never believe me._

"Hmm...," Splinter turned away from him, "how long have you had this _feeling_?"

Mikey rubbed the back of his neck, "Uhh, Monday I think. Yeah! That was also the same day I pranked Leo with—"

"Monday?" Splinter politely cut him off from his tangent, "I see..."

And then he went silent again. Normally, this would be the part where his Sensei would switch to his parent, and would comfort such petty worries. This would be the part where Splinter would tell him it was all in his head, that is was only his overactive imagination. But he hadn't said any of that, and it didn't sound like he was going to. Blood pounded in his ears, the drumming drowning out the prolong silence.

 _Am I actually right about something for once?_

Fear took over, "Is something wrong?"

Splinter flinched, and if Mikey had blinked, he would've missed it. The rat then began to walk over to the shelf on the wall, transfixed. His back was still turned to him, but Mikey _knew_ what his father was looking at, and he braced himself for his next response.

"Last Monday just so happened to be the day I lost my beloved Tang Shen," his voice was quiet and almost monotone, but he could still detect the bitter sadness in his words. Mikey slumped—he hadn't meant for his Sensei to be reminded of his horrid past.

"Did you know of this?" Splinter turned slightly towards him, enough so that Mikey was able to see the pain swimming in his beady eyes. In his paws was the picture he had kept of her.

His heart sank to his feet, guilt beginning to nip at his soul. Mikey had witnessed the moment himself—he _knew_ how traumatic and sickening the whole thing was. He had experienced it firsthand. Shell, he even saw her lifeless corpse. The gaping wound across her stomach. The scarlet blood soaking through her clothing. The black ashes that fell from the burning wood onto her serene face.

A shiver snaked down Mikey's spine. He had met Shen as well, and though he could never admit it to him, he missed her too.

Mikey shook his head, hoping that it would reassure his Master that he truly hadn't meant to unbury painful memories.

 _I'm sorry_ , he wanted to say out loud, but couldn't find the courage.

"Perhaps this is not a coincidence..." Splinter set the picture back on the shelf, "Let us meditate."

The youngest swallowed his sadness, and replaced it with annoyance, "Ugh, Sensei, you know I can't stand meditation! Can't you just ground me?"

"Alright, I will ground you. After meditation," he said as he sat across from him.

"Aw man! No fair!"

"Meditation will help clear your mind, and help rid of the overwhelming fear and anxiety in your body," his Sensei positioned himself, "Now you will do as you are told."

 _I kind of walked right into this one.  
_  
"Ok, ok, fine." Mikey crossed his legs and sat upright. "But you know I have a short attention span."

Splinter straightened, "Just focus on your breathing, my son, and relax. That is all that I ask of you."

The turtle sighed in defeat, and closed his eyes shut.

 _...Well, this is boring!_ was his immediate thought. After a few minutes of trying to get comfortable, and trying to figure out on what exactly he should be focusing on, he popped open an eye. Sensei was in perfect posture, looking as peaceful as ever. The tree in the center was still as green as ever. Everything was still, and boring to the eyes. But finally, his eyes snagged onto the flames of the candles. They had movement, and were bursting with life. Gently dancing, flickering, blazing a bright orange.

Master Splinter exhaled a deep breath, and Mikey's natural response was to quickly close his eyes again; he didn't need to get into more trouble. But even with his eyes closed, he could still see the fire burned behind his eyelids. Flashing blobs of oranges and reds and yellows. He would have to ask Donnie how that worked later.

The splashing of color, however, began to take shape. He assumed it was his imagination—even Donnie himself had told him he had a powerful one. Like how Mikey was able to spot constellations in the stars during nightly patrol (even if he did make up most of them).

The reds, the oranges, the yellows—they all swirled into an image that resembled a fox. Its head was a deep, blood red, the color gradually transitioning to a pale orange as it traveled down its back. But what was the most interesting, was the tail. It was a shining yellow, the tip flicking like the candle he had seen minutes ago.

 _Aww, it looks like a big ol' kitty!_ he mused, the fox reminding him of his pet in the freezer. The memory made him smile, though he couldn't feel if he actually was.

Mikey tried to imagine Ice Cream Kitty—a huge, tall Ice Cream Kitty to be specific—but the shape remained as a fox.

 _Huh, that's weird. Guess I really wanna think about foxes today.  
_  
A chill pricked at his skin as he watched the fox continue to take form. It wagged its single tail before it suddenly split in two. And then four. Then six. And it didn't stop until it had gotten up to nine tails.

 _A fox with nine tails. Yup, this is getting really weird. Why am I even thinking of this? I should be thinking of how I can get out of being grounded!  
_  
But he couldn't. Mikey was easily distracted, and he was well aware of that flaw, but seeing this fox from closed eyes caught his attention. By now, his skin felt like ice. But he couldn't shiver. He couldn't move. He could only stare at the nine tailed fox.

Then, it stood upright, on two legs. And then it looked as if it were stepping _towards_ him.

 _Dude, this is why I don't meditate! This is starting to get creepy!  
_  
Mikey tried to peel his eyes open, tried to rid of the nine tailed fox, but he couldn't. He felt _stuck_. A wave of nausea surged in his stomach as he began to grow scared.

The fire burned brighter, bright enough that if his eyes had been open, he would've squinted or looked away. But the thing was, they were already _shut_.

The blazing fox opened its jaws, "Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu!"

 _I have to be dreaming!_ he reasoned, but it still didn't make the fox, or his fear, disappear. _Look, I don't speak fox, so beat it!_

"Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu!" it continued to chant, "Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu! Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu! _Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu!_ "

Its roaring voice pounded in his head, true terror now taking ahold of his senses. And then, as quick as the brightness had come, the light began to fade out.

" _Michelangelo_..."

"Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu," the nine-tailed fox shrunk and shrunk, until it was no longer there.

" _Michelangelo!_ "

" _Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu.._."

"Michelangelo!"

Everything came in full force as Mikey shot his eyes open. He felt his father's hands on his shoulders, he felt sweat roll down his face, and he felt himself shiver upon the physical contact.

The dojo lights were now turned on, the candles blown out. Seeing stars, Mikey shook his head.

"My son, are you alright?"

Mikey fixed his swimming vision onto his father, comforted simply by his presence. But comfort soon slipped away, and questions raced through his mind.

 _Was that just a nightmare? Did I fall asleep doing meditation?...Again? Was that even meditation at all? Because I'm pretty sure that wasn't supposed to happen!_

The young turtle decided to wrap it all into one question.

"Did I mess it up?"

He saw something transform in his Sensei's eyes; the previous fear melting into something like a mixture of warm relief and love.

"No my son," he smiled, "What happened was not your fault."

Mikey couldn't help but return a smile back, genuine happiness filling in his chest like a balloon.

But the balloon suddenly popped. A sharp pain shot through his skull, causing him to cringe and squeeze his eyes. He held his head in his hands.

"Are you in pain, Michelangelo?" Concern laced each syllable that came from Splinter's voice.

He cracked open an eye, "Oh, yeah, just have this killer headache at the moment. Nothing a pizza can't fix."

But Splinter frowned at this. He gently placed the back of his paw on his forehead. "I would have to disagree. You are unwell, Michelangelo. I advise you to get some rest."

Mikey's face twisted in pain and confusion, "Aw man, you mean I'm sick?"

"You are indeed fighting off something, but what plagues you, I do not know. Your body needs its strength now."

"Alright—but then pizza, right?"

Splinter chuckled, helping him to his feet, "Right, then you can have a pizza."

Vertigo dizzied his steps, causing him to stumble and cling onto Master Splinter's robe. After blinking a few times, he was able to rid the dizziness enough so that he could walk on his own. And then, the two eventually made their way out. 

It was only until he stepped out of the dojo when he remembered the whole situation prior to the meditation. Embarrassment colored his cheeks once he realized that his brothers were all staring at him. He wished he could shrink into his shell at that moment.

Trying to avoid any conversation proved to be pointless as Raph suddenly sidestepped in front of him.

"So?" his brother crossed his arms, "What'd he do to ya?"

Mikey scowled, "That's none of your business." Another wave of dizziness crashed onto him, but shook it off, "I got this wicked headache though, so I think I'm gonna catch up on some beauty sleep."

"If that's the case, you should never wake up."

Mikey weakly rolled his eyes, too tired to make any witty comeback.

There was a nag from Leo. A comment from Donnie about going back to his lab. But suddenly, there was a soft, tedious creak that resonated in Mikey's ears. Mikey lifted his head up—rather too quickly—squinting towards the direction it came from.

His bedroom door—it was his bedroom door. Opened just ajar. Inching and inching slowly, drawing out its groan. Mikey's surroundings were drowned out as he watched the door open with an odd fascination.

"Anata no kokoro no tobira ga aiteismasu..." he heard himself mumble, but couldn't remember saying it.

"What?"

"What'd you say?"

"Was that Japanese?"

Breaking away from the door, he was met with his brothers' confused facial expression. Except he was seeing double. He staggered a bit, Raph managing to keep Mikey from falling.

"Woah, you ok? This better not be some stupid trick to get out of cleaning the stink bomb mess," the threat was rushed at the end.

Mikey blinked, his strength now returning to him. He straightened, "Y-yeah, I'm ok. Just kinda spaced out for a second. I'm gonna go take that nap now. See you dudes later!"

Without a chance for his brothers to question him, the youngest slipped away into his bedroom.

Making a beeline to his bed, Mikey plopped onto his covers, sinking into the mattress.

 _Man, is this what it feels like to be old? I hate having zero energy!  
_  
He groaned.

"What's up with him?" he heard Raph say.

Mikey wrapped himself in his blankets, eavesdropping on the conversation beyond his door.

Splinter spoke solemnly, "Your brother has opened up to me; he shed some light on his recent behavior. He expressed his stress and worries—"

"You actually believe that?"

Mikey jutted his lip. There was a pause, and he only hoped that Master Splinter was giving Raph a stern look.

"So, what's wrong?" That was Leo. His oldest brother always worried the most.

"His body—his mind—is fighting off something. But what he is battling, I am not sure of."

Fear tingled his trembling hands. _Wait, since when have my hands been shaking?_

"Is he ill? Do you want me to check him out?"

 _And cue Dr. Donnie_.

"If you wish to, you can once he awakens. But I fear that this sickness lies solely in his spirit."

 _So my spirit is sick? What does that even mean?!_ he yawned.

Mikey listened intently, expecting more dialogue, but he guessed that the conversation dissolved away. Feeling comforted by the warmth under his sheets, he decided to drop it for now.

He sunk deeper into the bed, his eyes gradually becoming heavier and heavier with each passing moment. But as soon as he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the memory of the fox. Each detail was still fresh in his mind, the thought of it consuming every other thought.

Sleep washed over him much sooner than expected. But before he slipped away, an almost audible whisper brushed past him.

 _"The door to your mind is open."_

 **Preview for Chapter 2:**

" **Someone was watching him."**

" **What came first before anything else was the smell. The horrid smell of bloodied metal. It was a scent that he was ashamed to have smelled often, but one that he would never get used to. He bit back a gag."**

" **Renet…?!"**


End file.
